


Voices Carry

by FerretShark



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Cam Pascal is a good security guard and we stan, Gen, Happy Hogan is good at his job, POV Outsider, Pepper Potts is amazing, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is in big trouble, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, What's a Peter Parker, Who's kid is this?, Worried Tony Stark, someone take these tags away from me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:27:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22413982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FerretShark/pseuds/FerretShark
Summary: "“You lost the kid?”“I didn’t lose the kid. He wasn’t there to lose.” Hogan snaps, red creeping up from under his collar.Stark gives a snort, showing exactly what he thought of that kind of parsing of semantics.Normally, Cam wouldn’t have been able to hear any of this conversation over the bubble of voices in the busy lobby. But when it was empty- even quiet voices bounced off the smooth marble. Turns out the lobby had excellent acoustics, and voices carried. "
Relationships: Happy Hogan & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 30
Kudos: 500
Collections: mcu stories that slap, underated irondad





	Voices Carry

It’s official. Cam Pascal is bored. When he applied for this security job at Stark Industries, eight years ago, he thought it would be exciting. Sci fi technology, aliens and Avengers and all. Unfortunately, sci fi technology, aliens and Avengers were kind of their own security. It left the guy checking the badges at the front desk at kind of a loose end. Not that he hadn’t seen some cool stuff - aliens and Avengers and all. 

But tonight was the Stark Industries Annual Holiday Charity Gala. He had hoped there might be something going down. Unfortunately, the party had started hours ago, and even the fashionably late were already upstairs. In normal towers, he would have at least been tasked with checking all the invitations and verifying the identities of their holders, but the damned AI made that part of his job obsolete too. 

With nothing else to do, Cam spins in his swivel chair. From his unobtrusively positioned desk, he can see all the entire expansive lobby, from the elevators on the side to the oversized entrance doors. The doors themselves are marvels of invention, heavy, but opening at the slightest touch. Unfortunately, they also tended to open rather slowly and you’d end up fighting them, if you were in any kind of hurry.

Cam’s sigh echoes in the empty marble room. He scans the bank of monitors built into his desk. Nothing on any of the approaching angles to the entrance, or the other building facades. He checks them again carefully. Nothing. He cranes his neck back to look at the chandelier dangling from the vaulted ceiling, and wonders for the hundredth time if Iron Man hung it himself. He just doesn’t know how they hoist things like that inside a room so tall. 

Perimeter scan complete, Cam jingles his keys in his pocket and glances at his company issued Stark Phone. No new messages which is in itself kind of surprising. Normally, during events it would be blowing up with one hundred check-ins from his boss. He was discovering that the man really had zero chill.

Speaking of the badge-obsessed devil...The glass front door of the building slowly swings open and Mr Hogan shoulders his way in. 

Harold Hogan was Stark Industries’ new Head of Security and now Cam’s direct boss. He sits up a little straighter. Cam wants to look busy and head off any unnecessary conversation. Hogan’s eyes fall on Cam, and he takes a step in his direction. Cam is quite literally saved by the bell. 

*Ding*

The elevator chimes a second before it slides open and out swans Tony Stark, himself. Cam tries not to stare. The man is immaculately dressed in a bespoke wool tuxedo, his trademark facial hair neatly trimmed. He steps out, catches sight of Hogan and claps his hands together.

“Oh good, you’re here. Late. But you’re here.” His eyes flick around the mostly empty lobby as if searching for something or someone. “So, where’s the kid?”

“I don’t have him…” Hogan looks put out.

Stark holds his hands out and a look of disappointment lines his face “Come on, Pep wants to see the kid.”

“I couldn’t find him. I went to the place he was _supposed_ to be and he wasn’t there.”

“You lost the kid?”

“I didn’t _lose_ the kid. He wasn’t there _to_ lose.” Hogan snaps, red creeping up from under his collar. 

Stark gives a snort, showing exactly what he thought of that kind of parsing of semantics.

Normally, Cam wouldn’t have been able to hear any of this conversation over the bubble of voices in the busy lobby. But when it was empty- even quiet voices bounced off the smooth marble. Turns out the lobby had excellent acoustics, and voices carried. 

Cam doubles down on staring into his monitors and pretending to be very engrossed and absolutely not listening in.

“It's not the same thing.” Hogan grouses. “I don’t appreciate you implying that I’m not good at my job, Tony.”

Cam’s a little shocked at the familiar tone, but it’s really none of his business. He surreptitiously scoots his chair closer to his desk, wincing when it squeaks.

Stark claps Hogan briefly on the shoulder. “I’m sure he won’t be hard to find.”

Hogan makes the smallest of movements toward the elevator before he’s pinned by Stark’s gaze.

“Well, what are you still doing here? **Go** and get him.” 

When the other man continues to stand there, unmoving, Stark makes a shooing motion with his hand, slipping the other elegantly into his pocket.

Hogan finally spins on his heel with a huff and storms out the door. The closing of the heavy doors is quiet, in direct contrast to his rather violent exit.

Stark gets back into the elevator, pulling his phone out of an inner pocket, as he disappears behind the smooth silver doors.

Cam has only ever seen the man in passing so he wonders if he’d only imagined the look of worry on the billionaire’s face just before they’d closed. 

The night is once again quiet. Cam takes his scheduled walk around the perimeter of the building on the hour before returning to his desk. Outside white Christmas lights twinkle in the well-trimmed shrubberies. 

This calm lasts all of thirty minutes. Hogan rushes back in, alone, but talking to someone on his phone. 

“-yeah I’m back at the tower now.” He heaves the door open with his shoulder. “Just, if you see him call me- Please.”

He ends that call and immediately dials another number. He forgoes any kind of greeting to the other party and starts talking, not mincing any words. He’s moving swiftly across the lobby toward the elevators.

“Yeah, I went back and he still wasn’t there.” He stabs the elevator call button. “I did some canvassing, but nothing turned up. Yeah, I know, no, wait, don’t hang up!” He gasps out before glaring down at his phone, muttering and pressing buttons. 

Ten seconds later, an elevator dings and Stark strides out. It’s no longer the indolent swagger from earlier. He moves with grace and purpose, his full attention on Hogan.

Happy matches his serious gaze, “Like I said, we can’t find him.”

“Is he in his _suit_?” Stark says in a low tone.

'Why is Stark even asking that?', Pascal wonders. Isn’t everyone here supposed to be in a suit? 

“I assume he is, but I can’t…” Hogan holds up his phone, showing something to Stark.

Starks mouth set in a thin, worried line. “It looks like Mr. Leeds and I need to have another little chat.” He murmurs in a low voice. 

From the tone, Pascal is glad he’s not the person Mr. Stark plans to talk to. He doubles down on staring into his monitors and pretending to be very engrossed and absolutely not listening in.

The elevator dings again and Ms Potts sweeps out, resplendent in an emerald green gown. Her strawberry blonde hair pulled up in an elegant twist.

“Tony? What is going on? You keep disappearing.” She sounds more concerned than annoyed. “I’m running out of excuses to tell people.” She freezes, takes in a Hogan’s disheveled appearance and their grim expressions. 

“Oh god.” Her voice drops lower, “Is it Peter?”

This is definitely starting to feel like a conversation Cam shouldn’t be hearing. 

“He’s missing, but Happy’s going to find him.” Stark ‘s eyes cut to Hogan and rest there. It occurs to Cam that he isn’t asking. There’s a direct order laced into his tone.

“We’re looking.” Hogan says steadily gazing flicking between the couple,”And we’ll keep looking. I’m about to head back to Queens myself.” His tone has swapped from its usual abrupt, harassed snapping to something bordering on reassuring?

Cam isn’t sure what to make of that. _Who is this ‘kid’?_ he thinks.

Hogan has his phone out again. He turns and quickly bolts back out through the door, struggling a bit trying to get through it quickly.

Ms. Potts slips a hand into the crook of Stark’s elbow and gently guides his stiff body back into the elevator. He reluctantly follows her but eyes are staring out through the lobby, his gaze locked on the view outside the glass windows. 

Not even twenty minutes later, a flurry of activity jolts Cam from where he had been staring vacantly at the unchanging monitors, lost in thought. He’s been wondering idly about this missing kid. He still has contacts on the force, but nothing compared to reach Stark would have. After all, he knew Spider-man.

Tense voices break the calm. He tells himself he won’t look but in the end he can’t help himself.

The elevator doors are open once again and Mr Stark and Pepper Potts spill out, arguing.

“But where are you going? Do you even know where to look?”

“Listen, Pep, I can’t just stand there and smile when..,” his voice had been rising but then it drops to a fervent whispers, “ He’s out there and I _need_ to...I need to make sure…”

Cam’s face burns, he shouldn’t be listening to this, but there’s nowhere to go and no way not to hear. He finds that he’s holding his breath. There’s an itch now, under his collar but he steadfastly ignores it, desperate to not be noticed. 

Potts steps forward and puts both hands on Stark’s shoulders. It immediately seems to calm him. He tips his head forward, eyes closing as he draws a deep, centering breath. She gently kisses his hair. 

“I know.” She murmurs. Pepper Potts steps back, holding onto her fiance's hand.

They’re interrupted when Hogan bursts, with some difficulty, back through the doors. His face contorts into something like relief at seeing them both already there. “Like I said, someone saw him near the deli and then he took off.”

“Do you know where he went from there?” Ms Potts inquires.

“There was a disturbance near the bridge.” Happy supplies slowly. “ Now we don’t know if he was involved but the cops were called about forty five minutes ago from a cell phone, not his. We don’t have a lot of specifics.”

Stark reaches into the front pocket of his tuxedo jacket, pulling out a sleek case. He takes out a pair of glasses and slips them on. 

“That’s it?” The tone is short. ”Millions of dollars worth of surveillance tech and the trail just ends? We’ve got nothing else?” Cutting sarcasm laces his words. 

It occurs to a Pascal that Stark isn’t just worried, he’s afraid. To his surprise, Pascal can feel anxiety slowly creeping into his bones too and he doesn’t even know this kid.

“Tony, I am working this from every angle.” Hogan pleads. “ As soon as I find him, you will be **the** first to know.”

“But we’re thinking this is bad? Yeah?” Stark clarifies, then sucks in a breath, “That’s it. I’m going myself.” His eyes flick to Ms.Potts from behind smokey lenses, “Sorry, Hon.”

She draws a steadying breath, “No, I know. It’s ok.”

Stark’s dark, worried eyes are now hidden by gray-tinted glasses. The man is also muttering instructions quietly to himself. 

Cam can’t make any of it out, not that he’s listening, of course.

Just then one of the glass doors flies wide open and a kid bursts into the lobby. He’s wearing a tux, a bow tie loosely flapping around his neck. He’s gasping as if he’s run all the way there from somewhere not closeby. 

Cam starts to rise from his seat to intercept the party crasher. He’s also pretty sure that door is now broken. 

“Happy! Mr. Stark?! I’m here! I made it.” All three adults turn toward him, faces frozen in shock and surprise. The kid slides to a stop across the freshly waxed floor “Did I miss it?” His voice falters “Again?”

Stark mutters something that sounds like “-ith, cancel the suit.” 

“Oh thank god.” Ms. Potts sighs. She sweeps over and pulls the boy to her, pressing a kiss to his sweaty forehead. She pulls back, rubbing at the faint lipstick mark. “I’ll see you gentlemen upstairs.” She vanishes toward the lift in a swirl of emerald silk.

The kid is now frozen, staring like a deer caught in headlights, slightly shell-shocked.

“Get over here, Pete.” Stark’s tone is brusque but his hands gentle as he starts to put the kid’s tie in order. Nothing remained of the deeply worried, shell of a man from before.

“Sorry,” the kid apologizes, trying to look down and follow Stark’s motions until the billionaire gently forces his chin back up. “May usually helps me.”

Stark makes no comment on that. “Wanna tell me where you were?”

“Yeah, I’d like to know that too.” Hogan murmurs, tapping hurriedly away on his phone. He also seems relieved.

“You can go on up, Hap.” Stark dismisses the other man with a jerk of his head.

“After all that, I don’t even get to find out where the heck he was?”

Stark pauses what he’s doing, “I don’t like Pepper up there by herself.” He says softly.

A shock seems to go through Happy Hogan and he gets moving. “Don’t worry, Boss, I’m on it.”

The kid watches him go then turns his attention back to Stark.

“I’m so sorry, Mr Stark. There was this _guy_ and he had this _stuff_.” The kid’s eyes flick over to Cam, who feels a bit startled at finally being noticed. He quickly averts his eyes and sinks low in his seat. 

“And I **had** to go…there were…” 

Stark shushes him, putting the finishing touches on his handiwork. “Alright, I get it. You ok?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m fine.” 

Stark steps back, holding the kid, Peter, by the shoulders as he looks him over. “Look at me.” He orders.

The kid squirms a bit at the once over, “Seriously, I’m fine. I’m just sorry I’m so late.” 

Stark sniffs, “No harm done. Let’s get upstairs. You’re gonna love it. All the sparkling apple juice you can drink. Lots of snacks.” He pauses. “After all you need to keep your strength up for the meeting tomorrow.”

“What meeting is that?” The kid asks uncertainly.

“The one with me, May, Ned..” Stark pokes at the teenager’s chest. “And you.”

The kid swallows with some difficulty, “Is this about the…?” 

“Yep.” Stark answers, popping the “p” and following it up with an inscrutable look that’s indecipherable to Pascal but seems to mean something to the Peter kid because he looks down and away with a resigned nod.

All the ‘Mr Starks’ aside, Pascal can’t help but read this whole interaction as at its essence very...parental. Which is not a word he’s ever associated with Tony Stark before this evening. He tries not to stare.

This whole time Stark has been guiding his charge over to the elevator, and he stabs the button.  
They step aboard together and the affable party host is back in full force. Stark spreads out his arms and grins over at the kid while intoning, grandly, “Let us eat, drink and be merry for tom-” the door closes before he can finish the quote. 

Cam doesn’t think he actually needs to finish it because the kid is already staring upwards as if in silent prayer, begging the powers that be for some kind of rescue from the inevitable.

The elevator ascends yet again and Cam Pascal is left to reflect on the evening as he finished out his shift. Hogan’s still a micro-manager, but also apparently a pretty good guy. Stark and Ms Potts are actually pretty solid no matter what the online blogs might speculate. And then there’s apparently this secret kid and that right there is a tabloid’s wet dream.

Not that he’s going to be telling anyone though, his non-disclosure is ironclad, plus he’s well compensated for all the fuss. But like he thought before, working here, it's not all aliens and Avengers, but sometimes, sometimes it’s actually pretty damn interesting.

End

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be ready around Christmas, but uh..sorry. That was optimistic for a Outsider POV which ended up being harder to pull off than I imagined.  
> This being said, I super love Cam Pascal and if you do too, stick him in your fic;) I don't mind.  
> Pascal's last name was homage Pedro Pascal, who stars as the Mandalorian. I had a harder time coming up with his first name. I put it to the brain trust in my amazing Discord Irondad server and I am 99% sure it was blondsak who responded with the Pascal the chameleon gif from Disney's Tangled.  
> Which is hilarious because Cam Pascal spends most of this story trying not to be seen!  
> Thank you SO much to Grace_d, who ruthlessly edited this story until it was better than it had any right to be. Thank you so much for your time and effort and all of the listening and brainstorming. I appreciate you far beyond any words I could express here!  
> Thank you also to people who beta'd this for me in various rough states over the last three months, while I was trying to get it put together. Thank you so much friendlyneighborhoodsecretary, coconutknightshade, OnceUponaFangirl, and peterparkr for reading over this when I couldn't see the story for the words. It was an immense help. 
> 
> Notes about the end. I hope it's clear, but I'm not going to assume: The quote from the end is a proverb: “Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow, we die.” Just in case you aren't familiar with it.  
> Essentially Tony and May are going to kill Peter and Ned for disabling the tracker on the suit again. Tony’s going to enjoy building up Peter’s dread.  
> Pete’s still going to have fun at the party, but he knows the meeting is coming tomorrow and he’s gonna be grounded.


End file.
